The Zenith Chronicles Revised
by TecnaBelievix
Summary: Revised with the help of renwotac1. Tech is a cyborg trying to break away from her manipulative stepmother. Timmy is a Prince who gets swept up into drama even though he just wanted an android fixed. Electra is an evil Queen bent on destroying anyone who gets in the way of her plans. She'll do anything for complete power...and I mean anything.
1. Pair of Purple Gloves

Authors Note: Neither one of us owns Winx Club or The Lunar Chronicles, they belong to their respective owners.

Chapter 1

Once in a while, I wished for a different life. One where I had everything. One where I was normal. One where I was one of them, not one of me. One where I wasn't getting looks of pity mixed with hatred because of who I am.

And if you're as abnormal as me, you are accustomed to the harsh looks. Just like I am.

As I walked down Main Street in Magix that day, I tried to ignore the looks the normal people were giving me. I had forgotten my gloves in my hover – the ones that conceal the metal hand. My metal hand. Without my big, bulky gloves, people considered me to be just another senseless, incompetent nobody. I just shrugged them off. I was used to it; for me, this was normal.

I don't remember exactly how I became what I am, but my stepfather told me that I was in a horrible hover crash where both of my parents died. I was only eight at the time. Because of this, I was slowly dying so the doctors had to find a way to save my life. They gave me a prosthetic right hand and left foot, both made of metal, and replaced parts of my brain. It was then that I became one of them. I became a cyborg.

I have no memories of my life before I came to live with my stepparents – no recollection of my past as it was. To add to such misfortune, my stepmother thinks of me as a curse because as soon as she took me into her home, my stepfather died from a sudden heart attack. She loathes the thought of having me, "a wretched cyborg," in her home. This is why she cried at my stepfather's funeral. Not because of her husband's death, no – she is so self-centered that she cried about having to take care of me...a cyborg.

And I, too, hate her with the same bitter animosity - I curse the day she was born.

Yes, I know that hate is such a strong word, but in this context, it is one of the only words that applies, especially because she treats me like I am nothing. Like I was just another one of those robots littering the streets of Magix. Like I wasn'ther stepdaughter. Even so, without me, Anna would have nothing. Without me, she wouldn't have a home and she and her daughters would be living in the gutter. The only reason they can live as they do is because she recognized my ability with technology, "my gift to help her family survive," as she says so. She used this to her advantage, of course – I now work for her profit at a small repair shop. Lucky me.

When I was passing a small, quaint café a block from where the shop was, my eyes fell upon a small television, on which was the Channel 4 news. The reporter was inaudible, but I slowly read what he was saying in the captioned words scrolling under him.

"…and in other news, Queen Electra of Zenith has just announced she, too, will come to Magix for the 80th annual Gala, of which all nobles from the realms will now officially be attending."

I reread those words dozens of times. Queen Electra – in Magix. All the rumors that I've heard about her quickly rushed back into my head. She killed her entire family to obtain the throne of Zenith, and kidnapped and imprisoned anyone that would try to interfere with her ruling of the kingdom. She found a baby of both Solarian and Magix blood who had the most beautiful golden hair, and that she cut it off the child for her own use and sent the baby far away from Zenith and the magical dimension. She had a stepdaughter who had the most beautiful of voices and, out of jealousy, took her voice and sent the girl to live in the poorest parts of the kingdom. But these are only rumors. I'll bet all of this was just a made up story to frighten children.

Just then, I heard a crash, which broke my concentration on the television screen. I turned towards where the sound of the impact came to see the scattering of some parts of a hover, while the rest of it was still intact. The only problem was that the hover stood suspended in the air, unable to move. The driver crawled out and examined the damage.

I ran over to the man to see if I could offer my expertise to fix his now-immobile hover.

"Ugh, I can't believe this old thing finally stopped." He mumbled under his breath, among other things of which I could not hear, nor understand.

"Um, hello…sir?" The man turned to me, an expression of annoyance on his face.

"Yes?" His tone was gruff, somewhat unbelieving that someone was around to see his misfortune take place.

"I was, um, wondering if you needed any help. Um...do you have gloves that I can borrow?" I said to him, hiding my metal hand behind my back.

"Sure…" he rustled around in his vehicle, pulling out a pair of purple gloves that came just to the wrist, with a small, green line found where the glove attached to the material that went just a few inches up the arm.

"Here, take these. They were my daughter's; she used to wear them, but she's got no use for them now that she's gotten older." He handed me the gloves and I slipped them on behind my back. They fit perfectly. Even better than the gloves I left in my hover. "And I don't mean to be rude but...um…you're a girl. What can you do to help me with my broken hover?"

"I'm not just a girl. I'm also a mechanic." I corrected him. "If you'd help me push the hover, we could get it to the shop I work at, which is just a block away. He nodded. As the man and I started to push it towards the shop, I muttered under my breath just low enough so only I could hear, "I'm also a pathetic cyborg, but that doesn't matter."

When we got to the shop, I lifted the top up and peeked inside the hover. Oil leaked everywhere, and the magbelt was frayed. Compared to some of the other things I had to fix, this was nothing.

Yanking the magbelt out, the man looked at me with an eyebrow raised. Yep, I told you so – I know what I'm doing.

"Where is the spare magbelt for the hover?"

He got up, explaining, "I'll get it. It's in the back of my trunk under a lot of junk."

"Could you also grab a towel so I can sop up all the oil?"

"Sure. One second."

While he was getting this, I pulled my short, magenta hair into a ponytail. He then emerged from the car's trunk, magbelt in hand, and handed me the piece I had asked for. I put it in the original one's position and reached for the towel he was also holding. Then, I wiped all the oil off and plugged the hole that the oil leaked out of. That is when I noticed a small crowd had gathered around the shop. They were watching with amazement as I continued to repair the damaged hover. I closed the top and opened the door; sitting in the front seat, I started the ignition. It worked like a charm.

"Here you go!" I said tossing the man the keys and I walked away wiping the sweat off my forehead.

"Um, oh, um…" the man babbled on, not knowing what to say about a "girl" being able to fix his hover. "Um, how much do I, um, owe you?"

"It's fine. It was just a simple fix, and there was no parts cost. Also, here are your gloves back."

"Keep them. Consider them payment." I thanked the man, and he got into his newly fixed vehicle and drove off. The crowd by this time had all left, as they had apparently found something more interesting to look at (and in the magic capitol of the dimension, trust me, that's not too hard to do) – or so I thought. I had just settled down in my comfortable chair in which I worked on all my smaller, handheld projects when a voice came from behind me.

"How did you learn to do that?" I quickly turned around to be face to face with a boy, maybe a year or so older than me, with light-orange hair that was short in the back, with long bangs in the front. He looked like a normal resident of Magix, wearing a black-and-orange hoodie and a pair of jeans with a pair of seemingly well-worn sneakers. The hood on his jacket was up, covering half of his face. I wondered why he wore it like that – such an odd thing to do, especially indoors. But, despite his normal exterior, something about him seemed familiar; I could not, however, for the life of me figure out who it was.

"Um, what do you mean?" I didn't exactly know what this boy wanted, nor whether or not I should actually be talking to this stranger. Something about him, though, made me want to know who exactly this guy was.

"I mean, how did you learn to fix a hover so fast? I've never seen anyone in Magix be able to fix one that quickly, let alone a girl, no offense."

"No offense taken – I know most people are shocked to see a girl doing this sort of thing." I chuckled a little at the thought of my mom changing the magbelt on a hover. The closest she's ever gotten to that is pushing me into my stepsister's car because I didn't do all my chores before they returned home that evening. "I guess it is just a natural skill of mine – I've always been able to do that sort of thing pretty quickly. Plus, it was just a blown magbelt and a failure in the oil pump – nothing too complicated or anything."

"So, um, you're a mechanic?" He had some confidence in his voice, but I could tell that this was an unnatural situation for him, as he asked his question in such an illogical manner. Ugh, why do I say such things – oh, right, the cyborg brain. Of course.

"Yeah. Always have been, probably will always be forced to be." I let a little anger out with the last part of that sentence. For some reason, though I was technically a cyborg and thus could not technically have feelings, I could still express some strong emotions such as anger and happiness (though with my life, the latter rarely ever surfaced) – great, just another reason that I'm different.

"What do you me-" he was cut off by the screams of a girl outside of the shop. When I turned my head, however, I realized she was looking at the man I was speaking to.

He uttered, "Uh, oh," to which I looked at him in curiosity – what exactly did he mean, "uh oh?" I was about to ask him what he meant by this illogical response when the girl answered both that question and the one as to why this person looked so familiar to me when I had met him.

"I-I-It's P-P-P-Prince T-Timmy!" She shouted so loud, it nearly broke my eardrums. I gasped at the realization that this was him, and that I was so clueless as to not even realize the Prince of the city in which I had grown up in for most of my life.

"Just great, now my cover is blown," he muttered under his breath, just so loud as to let me hear it. So this was Prince Timmy, heir to the throne of Magix and every girl's dream guy. And I was stuck in the middle, just trying to explain how a girl can be a mechanic. Why did everything weird always happen to me?

My thoughts were broken as the girl who had screamed and about two dozen or so other girls who had heard her cries of joy made their way towards the unmasked heir.

"Are there any ways to get out of here and avoid…them?" He said these words in such a terrified tone that I knew that if I did not help him, those girls and more would be all over him (and by the loudness of the scream in a previously quiet, undisturbed street, I could tell many, many more were coming – 368 people from the surrounding 2.97 blocks in 65.3 seconds, to be exact).

"Follow me." I grabbed his arm and made a dash for the back door that led into an old, forgotten alley to the Magix City outskirts. We ducked behind some rather large pieces of equipment used to raise the hovers into the air and test their flying capabilities and exited out the back entrance, running to the end of the alley and turning the corner. The girls came out, screaming his name so loud I'm sure the whole town could hear it. When they saw, however, the lack of people, let alone princes, in the alleyway, they stopped confused in a mob-like formation.

One asked, "where did he go?"

"I don't know, but this alley is nowhere a prince would hide," she turned towards the end of the alley that let out into Main Street Magix. "I bet he went that way!" The other girls subsequently agreed with her, and turning around, ran towards where the alley met with Main Street, opposite the side we were hiding out on. After they'd all run off and we were sure the coast was clear, we both snuck back into the shop that we had evacuated just minutes ago.

Immediately after getting into the shop, I bowed to the Prince. "Your Highness," I uttered towards the figure, looking down at the ground.

He blushed slightly. "Um, please don't call me your Highness. I always hated that title – it's so formal and proper. Just call me Timmy."

I stood there, gaping at the boy in front of me – Prin-, excuse me, Timmy, crown prince of Magix, next in line for the throne of one of the most powerful empires in the magical dimension. And here I was talking to him – me, a lowly, insignificant cyborg. Thank goodness I could not blush, because if I could, I am sure that such an action would be inevitable at this point in time, however illogical an action it may be.

I had almost forgotten that Timmy himself was standing right in front of me, for I barely caught his next statement.

"Thank you for, um, saving me back there." He seemed to lack poise, something I did not see coming from a person grown up to be royalty his entire life.

"Oh, um, you're welcome…I guess it can be really rough having tens of thousands of people to look after, each of them wanting something from you." I could relate, I thought to myself. All my stepfamily, minus my stepfather, ever wanted from me was the money I brought in. I was their scapegoat to working, and that was what kept me around. I guess I should not try to assume myself to some level competent with that of the Prince of Magix, but I won't deny that I can somewhat relate to his situation.

He chuckled approvingly. "Yeah, especially when I'm just trying to be a normal kid and their going around town, chasing after me, calling my name." I chuckled at such a thought as well. It never occurred to me exactly how annoying this could get for a person; then again, I wondered which would be worse – everyone wanting to be your friend, or no one wanting anything to do with you, both because of who you are. "Um, I never did, um, actually get your name."

"Oh, sorry. My name's Tech."

"That's…a, um, cool name."

"Thanks." I stared downward in order to not look at Timmy's face. It seemed as if I looked at him, I'd start to blush in the same way he'd started to. A long silence endured after I said this, but shortly thereafter broke as soon as it started.

"So…how did you become a mechanic?"

"Well, I'm pretty good with technology and machines, so, um, I got a job here; well, actually, I was more so forced into working here by my stepmother, but it's fun, I guess, working with technology all day." I gave him a fake smile; it, though, at the end, turned into what would be considered a slightly genuine one. I couldn't believe I was telling this stranger all of the things that I did not have the nerve to tell anyone else, but for some reason, I felt as if I could trust him.

"That's great! You see, I…I, um…I need someone to fix-I mean, find out what is wrong with-my android. Something's not right with her."

I didn't know what to say – first, I learn he's a prince, then we dodge a bunch of screaming girls out to get him for themselves, and now he wants me to help fix his android. This day just keeps getting stranger and stranger. "Um, sure! Do you have it with you?" Suddenly, as if on cue, he stuck his hand into the main pocket on his hoodie, pulling out a small mechanical figure. It looked quite similar to other Zenithian-made androids I had worked on in the past, only this one had much higher-quality metal than the others (which didn't surprise me much, as she was a prince's android).

"Yep. This is Laui. She's been malfunctioning every time I try to turn her on – she'd get powered up, malfunction, and then reboot and malfunction again. I've tried fixing her myself, but I couldn't. So, when I saw you fixing that man's car, I thought you might be able to help."

I took the small android from his hand – it felt warm…and a small shock came up my spine, just large enough for me to feel…wait, what? Oh, right, the android; it looked quite similar to other Zenithian-made androids I had worked on in the past, only this one had much higher-quality metal than the others (which didn't surprise me much, as she was a prince's android). Actually, the small, robotic body looked remarkably similar to Digit, my very own android. Suddenly, the robot's metal eyelids flipped open. A small, electronic voice softly, yet sharply replied, "Rebooting in 5...4...3...2...1..." Suddenly, she flew up in the air and then shut down, crashing to the sidewalk below.

"I can fix her," I responded after a few seconds, giving a small smile to the android's attempt at supporting itself in such a state of disrepair.

"That's great! Can you possibly fix her by next week?" He said with hope in his eyes.

"Yeah. I'll try. Thank you, your high-, I mean, Timmy." I said bowing to Timmy.

He chuckled a little at this. "No. Thank you." With that he turned around and walked out of the garage door, still open (I presume that I had forgotten to close it after pushing the hover into the shop, and that that is how all the prior events came to occur), and started walking in the direction of the palace. I gently fingered the small android still in my hand, and started to pick up a few choice tools that may be necessary in the repair.

"I'll bet Digit will love the story of how I met the Prince. I can't wait to tell her," I whispered this to myself, and started to walk to my hover with the Prince's android in hand, thinking about the person who'd I had just met. If that girl hadn't come, then I'd never have guessed he was the prince, I thought to myself, knowing such thoughts were very illogical. Hedefinitely doesn't act like one, let alone anyone I've ever met. I smiled as I thought about him, but quickly got my mind together. I mean, I couldn't talk about the prince as if…as if he was a friend or something, or like I sort of knew him. Again, he is a prince, and I'm a lowly cyborg – I might as well push the thought of us being friends out of my mind forever. During this time, however, I only thought about my encounter with the Prince…and that spark I felt…no, it was nothing.

I saw my car about one hundred feet away from me and grimaced at the thought of going home to my stepmother; however, I kept my thoughts on Digit to keep my mood slightly as positive as it was moments ago. He, however, came back into my mind, and his memory ended up clouding it for exactly 93 of the 100 steps I took to get to the hover (I counted).

I'd like to than renwotac1 for help in revision. (Renwotac1 did the majority of the work while I just pointed out little details, I'll admit it :-) ) if you enjoyed this new revision, please review!


	2. Crash!

# Chapter 2 #

The day's events were still stuck in my mind as I walked to my old hover that night. I looked down at my new purple gloves – what that man had given me by breaking down in front of the shop was more than I could've ever asked for. Because of him, I had met the Prince of Magix, one of the most powerful people in the dimension (as Magix is the magic center of the universe), and talked to him as if I wasn't just a "lower-class citizen." As I reached the older-model vehicle, my thoughts shifted to that of telling my android (and, ironically, best friend) Digit of the day's proceedings – man, would she be upset that she had decided to stay sleeping in my hover on such an exciting day!

I pulled the driver's side door to my hover open and sat in the comfortable seat; Digit, meanwhile, was fast asleep in the passenger's seat, curled up into a small ball. As she slept, she snored softly. This, consequently, brought a small smile to my face and caused a small chuckle to escape my lips.

I shook her tiny shoulders, as I too was very excited to tell her of the day's proceedings. "Digit...Digit, wake up," I whispered softly into her ear, "I have a something to tell you!"

"Five more minutes..." She yelled, swatting my hand away in the process.

"Fine, then I guess you don't want to know how I met the Prince, now, do you?" With that, her light blue eyes opened and sparkled with curiosity. "You met the Prince?" A small yawn escaped her lips as she tried to comprehend the situation. I let another small laugh escape my lips, as she looked at me with a newfound inquisitiveness.

"Yep." I showed her the small lifeless android in my hands. At this, Digit looked confused. "It's name it Laui," I explained to my small friend. "The Prince needed someone to fix her. Apparently, she malfunctions every time she tries to reboot. Let me show you." Leaning closer to Digit, I quickly opened the royal android and typed a reboot code. The lifeless body stirred to life yet again, only to fall onto the floor of my stationary hover.

"What did the Prince look like?" Digit said, her eyes leaving the motionless android just inches from her head. "Was he as handsome as he is on TV?"

"Man, and I thought you were 'Full of Logic'" I mocked her, using her own words against her while making little quotation signs with my fingers.

"I certainly am, all eight pounds, seven-point-nine ounces of me! So, was he?" I rolled my eyes at Digit, knowing she wouldn't give up until I gave her an answer.  
"Yeah, sure - whatever floats your boat, Digit. Anyway, we have to get going home or else my stepmother will yell at me." I started the car and it made a noise only contesting with Digit's now seemingly everlasting questions about my encounter with Prince Timmy. I steered the hover out of the parking lot and turned right, heading towards the place I had now deemed "my prison," for lack of a better, more suitable term.

"Tech? Are you sure about that?" Digit said, staring down at her built-in wrist computer. A bunch of blinking dots littered the screen, coming closer to the center point with every second that passed. "The Magix Police are following us." She announced looking up at me. "They're heading right this way." I, for a minute, couldn't think why they'd be coming this way, until I realized what time it was. As of two minutes ago, it was now twelve o'clock, also known as the cyborg curfew – some inane law the city made up "to keep troublesome cyborgs away from the 'normal' townspeople in Magix late at night." Put into simple terms: "to keep pesky nobodies (cyborgs) who are assumed 'dangerous' because they are 'different' from disturbing the 'normal' townspeople of Magix." If caught, however, we can get in a lot of trouble, and considering I am never on my stepmother's good side (that is, if she has one) to start with, I don't think getting in trouble with the law would be a wise decision.

"Ok," I said after a minute of thinking about our situation, "we are going to have to make a run for it." I gripped the steering wheel tightly, turning the ignition key and placing my foot on the gas petal. "Get ready." I said narrowing my eyes at the passenger next to me.

"They will be here in exactly 16...15...14...13...12..." Digit announced and I started to hear sirens. "Go Tech! Hurry!"

I floored the petal and the hover sped out into the dimly-lit street. "Happy?" My voice was screaming just to contest with the noise of the engine. I saw Digit crinkle her nose and slowly nod her head.

"We are going 45mph…now 62." Digit told me, looking back at the blue and red lights quickly approaching. "76...Tech, you're going too fast. Slow down!" She whimpered from the seat.

"How do you expect to get out o-" I suddenly saw we weren't on the road anymore, and let go of the gas for the brake petal, pushing twice as hard. "Brace yourself!" I yelled at Digit. Then, realizing what would most likely happen next, I let go of the wheel and grabbed onto Digit and Laui, holding onto them for dear life.  
Covering the both of their robot bodies, I felt a sudden jolt throughout my whole body. As this happened, a memory flooded my mind, one that I had only previously remembered in my dreams. This was the same type of jolt, the same suddenness and severity, but everything was completely crushed and surrounded by rubble. In that memory, I could only feel a horrible sensation of being buried alive until the debris was lifted from my body. I could recall being lifted from the car to safety before everything went suddenly black as the night itself.

I woke up an hour later – I could tell this because of the diagnostics running across my vision, reminding me about what had happened. Telling Digit about my encounter with the Prince. The police chase. Me holding the two androids tightly to my chest. The crash. As I thought about the last memory, still fuzzy in my mind, an internal voice, cold and unknowingly callous in sound, reverberated throughout my entire being. Rebooting in 5...4...3...2...1...Time past since shutdown: 62 minutes. 62 minutes without waking up. What could have gone on in those 3,720 seconds, I could have feared none worse than what she saw before me when I gained the courage to look around where I was. Opening my eyes, I saw myself in the one place I wished more than anything I was not at in that particular moment, the one place I could only ever try to flee from, but never succeed in doing so – my stepmother's home.

"Home again." I mumbled contemptuously under my breath as I glanced around at my room. It was always a small room, yet before my stepfather passed away, it seemed to be my perfect space, filled with just enough to keep it comfortable. Now, however, it had been stripped down to only the bare necessities – a bed made of damp, unstable wood and a mattress my "mother" had told me I was "lucky to have," along with my two only luxuries – a small window next to my makeshift bed and a small box, in which I have hidden my most precious items from her evil clutches. The room I had once treasured became a daily reminder of my oppression, and once I had left, it was the one thing I thought I would never see again.

"Of course," I muttered as the creaking of the unfinished steps that led to the room I was now in started, then became increasingly louder (by .294 decibels) with each step.

"Hey. Mother would like to see you." The voice came from the top of the staircase that led to my room (or, should I say, prison cell). Its owner was my somewhat – nice stepsister, who I had also thought I would never see again.

"Bea, what happened?" A head popped up from the steps as she slowly walked into the room; her light-brown hair bounced lightly as she ascended up the steps before coming into the near-barren room.

She glanced down the staircase, as if to watch that she was not followed, then looked at me with sympathy written on her face. "You got in an accident." She paused, looking down the staircase, as if to watch that she was not followed or being watched. She added quickly, "go talk to mother before she finds I've talked to you."  
I tried to stand, but the throbbing my lower back was unbearable. I think I also broke my metal foot. That will probably cost at least two, three, maybe even four month's pay, to fix. Ugh, could this day get any worse?

Seeing me in pain, Bea rushed over to my side and draped an arm around my shoulder to help me get to the living room. She looked at me with her warm hazel eyes, saying in a soft whisper, "Need help, sis?" I nodded, smiling slightly at her remark. She always considered me to be part of the family, even though stepmother and Gigi didn't; she was one of the only things that made me smile.

I cringed at the thought of this, for I couldn't have imagined such an outcome when I was brought into my stepparent's home – everything back then was fine. Stepmother didn't really care about me, so she let me do whatever I wanted, stepfather always seemed to be extra careful and protected me from harm, Gigi usually ignored me, and Bea soon became my closest friend. But of course, when I started middle school in Magix everyone treated me differently because I was a cyborg. That's when I got the idea of wearing gloves to conceal my right hand – it, along with my foot (though because I wore shoes that covered my prosthetic foot up, I only really ever worried about my hand), were the only real, tell-tale signs of my being a cyborg.

The problem with this, however, was that as I continued to go to school, no one still ever came up and talked to me, nor myself to them, as I was too afraid of what they would think of me. I soon became lonely, so, with some quick thinking and some extra pieces of metal from my stepfather's long-forgotten inventions, I built Digit. She had the makeup of an android, yet one key part I had installed in her thinking it would not work, but did – a personality chip, also one of my stepfather's inventions (giving my worry as to its ability credibility), which gave her human-like emotions – sadness, anger, happiness, excitement, and most profoundly, curiosity – as well as a unique personality. He gave it to me just before he died – it was so sudden, not even the doctors saw it coming. I remember that day, one of the only ones on which I could feel sadness, one day where my human emotions had overcome the lack of emotions of the cyborg part of my brain. It was then that they became evil – telling me what to do, yelling at me as if I was a lower-class, inept slave, rather than a person. Only Bea stayed kind, and she thus became one of my greatest allies and one of my best friends (with only Digit to contest with).

My arm around Bea's shoulder and dread in my mind, I started hobbling towards the living room thinking about the face I wished I would never see again. The face I dreaded every day and every night for the last half of my life. The one face that could make my life as miserable as thought humanly possible, then turn it upside down once more, just for pleasure – the face of my stepmother. 


	3. Meet The Family

**Chapter 3**

I was always just me – Tech, a mechanic with a conniving stepmother, two stepsisters, one snarky, the other childlike and kind, and an android as my only friend. And then I met the man with the purple gloves…and everything came tumbling down from there.

I limped into the living room with my arm around Bea's shoulder. My stepmother had her back turned to us, intently watching the TV – on it, a news broadcast was playing the video of my hover accident. Man, I would've said it looked like it hurt…that is, if I wasn't the one driving the car, knowing exactly how much it hurt (and trust me, it did [and still does] greatly).

Muting the TV, my stepmother stood up and turned to me, remote in hand, a mixture of a scowl and a smirk on her face. "You got into trouble again, you insufferable imbecile? How dare you disgrace my name in that manner on _public_ _television_!" Her deep blue eyes bore into mine, full of hatred and detestation.

I was fuming at her remark. I knew I shouldn't say anything, if not to spare myself from any more of the cruel punishment she had decided upon, but mouth got the better of me. "How dare I? I get into an accident because some cops are chasing after me for who-knows-what-reason, and you are worried about _your_ reputation?"

"How dare you talk back to me, you insolent little girl!" She pointed her long, pale, bony finger at me in a dramatized disgust. "Bea, sit her down." My sister had started leading me towards the sofa when her mother raised her voice and added, "No Bea…sit her on the floor." _Just like a dog – she thinks I am as worthless as a dog. I wonder how much fun she's having right now. _

"But-" Bea started, hoping to reason her mother as to the cruel and unusual (unusual, that is, for a "normal" person) punishment. She however, was ultimately cut off by her mother.

"NOW." Bea regretfully laid me down on the hardwood floor. I looked up at my stepmother at that moment, the first time I did so since I had arrived home – her wispy, gray hair was tied up in a small, neat bun, and she had on a revealingly short, bright red dress. Goosebumps appeared on my skin, and a sharp shiver ran down my spine – I couldn't imagine anything causing it but the stern, almost sinister expression on her face and the cold, blue color emitting from her eyes.

Gigi stood huddled in the corner, looking at me as if I was a wild animal. That was a big surprise - she was loyal to her mother, unlike Bea; in fact, she was almost an identical copy of her as well. The only differences were that she had black hair that stopped just below her shoulders, and her face always had a sort of angry look, unlike my stepmother's cold and distant one. And all the meanwhile, Bea, Gigi's polar opposite, didn't know what to do or where to stand – with her blood-bound mother and sister, or with me, her _step_sister.

Bea stroked her long, auburn-colored hair, pulled back into two braids that ran down her back, stopping at her waist, nervously. Her eyes were an emerald-green and only complemented by the light pink dress she wore today. What I admire most about her is that unlike her sister or mother, she can consider me her sister rather than stepsister. I'd suppose that that is because Bea always had the kindness and curiosity of a two-year old, an ability of her and her alone to not grow up even at 16. She has the innocence of a young child, and that's the way I hoped she would always be.

"Tech, I will not tolerate such reckless behavior from you. Thus, you will not be able to leave the house, except to go to work and events with myself present, for the next month. You will also not be allowed to work on your 'inventions,' as you call them, for the duration of your punishment. Understood?" I tucked a strand of my hair behind my ear and sullenly nodded, keeping my eyes focused on the ground. "Tech," she sternly, yet smugly continued, "I expect you to leave for work as early as possible tomorrow morning and every morning afterwards to earn back all the money you wasted when you crashed my brand new hover. You'd better be grateful that I told the authorities to not put this on your permanent record."

"Understood..." I whispered back to her. I knew perfectly well that she would just use the money I earned to buy even more expensive dresses, and, more so, that I would be the one fixing her precious hover – for free, naturally. And as for my record, I'd be checking that out later (luckily, one of the people working at the shop has a son in the police department with whom I'm acquainted and owes me a favor for fixing his police hover about a month ago).

"Oh, and about your little androids..." She was just about to leave the room when she added this bit of information, her eyebrows raised at me to see my reaction to the subject.

"What did you do to them?" My voice came out scared (because my vocal chords weren't damaged in the accident, I can express most emotions verbally [though it only happens in very rare circumstances]).

She gave me a grim smile, then replied, "They are locked in my closet. You will get them back when I find you worthy of my trust again."

I opened my mouth as if to speak, but she gave me a look that could have killed me right then and there. My mouth instantly closed, understanding this was final. With that, she walked away ; however, just before she left through the house's front door, she turned around again and stated, "Now…get to work. You still have a number of chores to do before you get dinner, then more before you go to sleep tonight."

Gigi followed her mother, looking over her shoulder at me with a taunting smirk. As soon as the door was closed I let out a huge sigh, then got up from the floor in excruciating pain. Bea ran to my side and helped me to my feet.

"Sorry Tech…" Bea said, her green eyes full of sadness. "…I missed you, though, if that's any consolation."

"I missed you, too, Bea..." I replied back in a dazed, somewhat monotone voice. I tried to smile and think about what she had just said to me, that someone had missed me for once in my life, but every thought I conjured up was about my stepmother.

_I hate her; _my thoughts whirled around her cold, stoic eyes as I walked with Bea into the kitchen to start my chores, _I hate her even more than I ever did or could before. _

* * *

The next day, I drove to the shop as I do every morning; this morning, however, I was without Digit. I never noticed how important she was to me (and my sanity) as I did today, driving to "work" in total silence. I nervously chuckled to myself in an attempt to relieve the awkward silence, though that, too, ended up futile. _Man, this is going to be a __**long**__ day. _

When I got to the shop, work came in slowly and took little time to fix. After realizing that loneliness was inevitable, my mind started to wander onto several things…the Prince, mainly, no matter my attempts to divert my thoughts. _I wonder when I'll see him again…wait, why do I want to see him? I can't get Laui back without my stepmother giving her back, and then there will still be figuring out what's wrong with her and if I can fix the problem(s), so shouldn't I be trying to __not__ see him? Ugh, why can't I stop thinking about him? Princ-I mean, Timmy, is nice and all, but come on – he just wanted his android fixed. Although, if I don't fix Laui right and make her work perfectly, I could get a bad reputation as a mechanic, and that would anger my stepmother even more. Great, just what I need – another excuse not to get Digit back. So basically, my career as a mechanic, whether or not my stepmother is going to punish me, and Digit's fate are all riding on whether or not I can get Laui back from my stepmother. Just my luck. _

Just then, another car came in. This one was a faulty oil tank – a small, yet growing hole in its side. I was done with the hover in about ten minutes, once I patched it up via welding a piece of metal over the hole and surrounding area and fixed some faulty wiring also inside the car. At least it barred my mind from such consuming thoughts for a little while.

About two hours before the shop was to close, all I wanted was to go home and sleep. I missed Digit – without someone to talk to and her personality to keep things interesting in this dull atmosphere, the day dragged on seemingly forever. Even when I didn't bring her into the shop, I knew that once I got into the hover to go home, she'd be there, asking me exactly what had happened that day. Not even the project whose statistics I was testing – a cellphone I finished repairing yesterday scheduled to be picked up tomorrow – could divert my thoughts for more than a few seconds. My fingers were fiddling across the screen, checking the productivity and overall working of the device when I heard the door to my shop open. I didn't think to look up from where I was working for a few seconds; after all, the only thing it could be was just another walk-in customer, so I attempted to finish testing the last few things before leaving my desk. However, a voice called my name – one familiar to me.

"Tech?" I looked up immediately to be greeted by none other than Prince Timmy. Just a day ago, he was in here, and we had met one another for the first time. How ironic – that day had seemed like ages ago, rather than just one measly day.

"Oh, um…hi, Prin-Timmy." Despite trying, I could barely stand because of the intense pain shooting through my ankle and back. Instead, I bowed while sitting. Yes, I was probably breaking a rule of respect; but then again, as the probability of me falling upon trying to stand was a solid 94.3%, I concluded that he would probably appreciate me not doing the latter more.

"Hey. Um…I saw the video on the news, you know, about the crash last night. Are you okay?" He closed the door to the shop and came through the entrance to where my desk sat at the back of the store. He was now only about ten feet from where the PDA sat, diagnostics still running on the screen.

"Oh, yeah. Um, also, I'm really sorry for not bowing or anything, but my back is really sore from the aftershock of the crash." Well, at least that's not a total lie – my back does hurt really badly (of course, it's more so from the "bed" I've been sleeping on since I could remember and all the "punishments" and chores I have to endure, but that can be left out).

He responded with a small chuckle. "That's okay; I never liked the 'bowing' thing, anyway. It's way too formal for my liking." His face then turned a bit grimmer than before. "Um, what exactly happened out there?"

"It's kind of complicated. You know the Magix Curfew?"

"Yeah, I guess so – my parents put it into law before I was born, but they've told me about it."

"Oh, yeah, of course. Well, I thought it might be that they were after me for that because it had just turned ten o'clock. So, long story short, I kind of was paying attention to them and not to the road, and before I could do anything about it, I was a few seconds away from hitting the tree."

"Are…are you okay?" He looked at me with a minute sense of fear in his eyes. I guess he believed my story and felt sorry (or something like that) for me because it was his police force that kind of started the whole thing. But, wait, why would he feel sorry for someone like me?

"Yeah, just my back hurts badly today, but that's to be expected. My foot also hurts, but that's because it was on the brake when the accident occurred. Nothing serious, though." Yeah, sure – it actually feels like a truck slammed into my back and brought another truck along to ram into me afterwards (and by that "second truck," I really mean my stepmother). The funny thing is, I don't know which hurt more – the crash or my stepmother's taunts afterwards, using poor Digit as her hostage.

"Oh, um…that's good to hear. It looked pretty bad on the TV." Yeah. It felt even worse. "So…oh, um, what's that?" He pointed towards the mechanism on my desk. I turned to see where he was pointing, then picked the cellphone up with my hand and held the small, metal device out for him to see.

"It's a cellphone – well, with a few modifications. See, sometimes, people come in here to have me work on electronic devices, too – this one short-circuited after falling into a river on Lynphea. It looked pretty bad when its owner brought the device in here, but all it needed was a new screen and to be rewired a bit. I also added on a few features, as the girl who owns it is going to Alfea and needs to be able to communicate over a longer distance, and the phone itself was never meant for any long-distance communication, let alone from Alfea to Lynphea and back." He stared at the device, almost bewildered at it. I myself thought my eyes were deceiving me – I mean, he has to have a more advanced cellphone than this one, being a prince and all (especially one whose country has close ties to some of the most advanced planets in the dimension). Nevertheless, he kept turning it over and over, staring at the exposed backing and the rewiring job I had done, then back to the screen, which was still processing all of the new data and applications I had added onto it.

"Wait, you rewired this?" Okay, that hurt a little; why is it that just because I'm a girl, no one can believe in my skills as a mechanic?

"Um, yes…"

"Oh." What do you mean, oh? I began looking frantically over the device, trying to see what made him make the remark

"What? Does it look wrong? I'm sure I rewired it right-"

"What? No, no, it looks great-I mean, _you_ did this?" I nodded as he took another long look at the device's wiring and statistics. "It's amazing! I've never seen anyone rewire an actual device before – well, I've watched the royal mechanic once or twice while he worked on some smaller projects when my parents would let me, but not even he could rewire something like this, especially with previous damage, and make it so much more advanced!" I stood there flabbergasted. Here I was, Tech, a lowly mechanic, being complimented by the Prince of Magix on something that had taken me no more than a few hours to complete. It was a totally illogical situation, yet, beyond all scenarios that could have taken place, this was what was happening. I was so caught up in it that I almost missed his next question to me. "How did you do it?"

"Um…well, it took a while to figure out exactly where the problem was, but it ended up just being a matter of switching the yellow and orange wires with the green and purple wires, respectively, and a new screen, as the other had been damaged in the accident. Then, for the additional applications such as long-distance calling and a geographical mapping and locator function I added on later, all it took was a little handiwork and some patience, as well as all some more rewiring and increasing the phone's hard drive capability."

"Wow. It's…it's just spectacular." _Okay, I know, I must be in a dream – I'll just blink my eyes a few times and I'll be right back in my room. _I did as my thoughts described, but nothing happened. After closing and opening my eyelids, he was still in front of me, still too distracted by the cellphone to notice my awestruck face. _So this is really happening…but, how?_

"Oh, um…t-thank y-you. It's actually not done yet - I just need to get a screwdriver to screw the back of it back on, and then it'll be good as new." I attempted to get up from my seat; my body was not ready for the action as I soon learned. I had almost fully stood up when a tinge of pain shot up the nerves in my spine as my foot, which had been, up until this point, resting on the chair next to me, touched the ground. Ugh, how did I forget that they hurt so much? I stumbled, biting hard on my lip as to stop with all my might not to scream out in pain. Though successful with this, I, within a matter of seconds, began to lose my balance and fall. But then, a hand came to rest on my shoulder. I looked up – he had caught me.

His arms grabbed onto my shoulders firmly, yet softly and pulled me to my feet. I looked away from his face for the most part; however, I did sneak a glance in while he was looking away from me. His cheeks were a bright, rosy red color, as if blushing would keep this awkward moment from getting any more so. And me? Well, I knew my cheeks were still the same, extremely pale color they always were – simply put, I couldn't blush because I was a cyborg. Just because my face wasn't red, however, didn't stop me from feeling nervous and embarrassed – it actually, I believe, made me more so feel this way.

Pri-um…Timmy was the first to speak. "A-a-a…are y-you, um, o-okay?" Now I knew that my face would be redder than ever (that is, if such actions could occur).

"What? Oh, yeah, I'm okay." We each pulled back from one another hastily.

"Sorry…for, um…"

I quickly interrupted him, as not to let the conversation get even more awkward than it already was. "It's okay…um, thanks, for, um…not letting me fall." I quickly sat down again, ignoring the pain again shooting up my spine.

"You're w-welcome." We sat quietly for a moment, each unsure of what to say. Basically, think of your most embarrassing moment, and imagine it with someone who you know could literally have you banished from your home planet for good and/or thrown in some of the worst dungeons in the world for all of eternity. Then, you will have the basic concept of my predicament.

"Also, um…I _might_ be a little late with fixing Laui. Things are…_**complicated**_…right now, and…" The last word dragged on as I tried to find an appropriate explanation to give. Luckily, he did not need one.

"Oh that's fine." He seemed relieved that I had changed the topic – yeah, him and me both. "Um, could you just send him to the palace when you're done?"

"Yes, of course."

"Great. Thanks, Tech." He looked up at the dusty clock on the back wall of the shop. "Sorry, but, um, my mom and dad will…probably be worrying where I am. I-I, um…I'd better be getting back."

"Okay. I'll send Laui to you as soon as I can get her fixed."

"Thanks, Tech. Bye!" He turned and walked out the door quickly.

Just before he left, I managed to say, "bye!" The door closed behind his fleeting figure, the bells attached to the wooden entrance ringing until they faded out into nothing.

I turned around just as he did and stared at the clock. _Twenty minutes to ten, _I thought to myself. _I guess I could just get everything packed up for the night, then leave and get home before that wretched curfew comes to haunt me again. _I quickly put all of my supplies I had used throughout the day away, only getting up if necessary as the pain in my back still was unbearable; I picked up the remote on my desk and aimed it at a window right of the garage door, changing the sign hanging in it from **OPEN** to **CLOSED**. I realized the phone on the desk, still without its backing screwed on. Almost instinctually, I took my screwdriver out of one of the many drawers in the desk and carefully, yet hastily, screwed on the cover so it meshed almost perfectly with the device. I then locked the front door from the inside, as habitually done by myself every evening to keep the gadgets inside safe. Before walking out of the shop via the back entrance, I grabbed my blue jacket from the rusty, metal hook it lays on every day during the winter. I locked the door and put the jacket on, allowing the warmth it carried from being near the heater all day soak into my body.

Pain surged through my foot and up my spine as, one step at a time, I walked towards the hover. Yes, the hover – the same hover that "my stepmother, out of her kind heart, allowed me to use to travel to and from work although I had broken it severely just the night before and could not be trusted the slightest bit." I almost gagged as I recalled exactly what she had said to me that morning as to the vehicle in a mocking tone. _Sometimes, _I thought to myself,_ I wished I could just extract and eliminate her from my life as easily as I could do so from a hover or a piece of technology – Gigi as well. That would make my life so much easier. _

All this time, however, there was a feeling I just could not seem to shake – this very strange feeling which had just emerged from me after _he_ had left. This feeling that…that I still wanted to be wrapped up safely in his arms, where I could be protected whatever my stepmother, Gigi, or anyone else for that matter tried to throw at me. I tried to convince myself it was all in my head – _you're just being illogical. He's a prince, and what are you to him? You're nothing more than a common, inferior cyborg – something of minor importance. _

_I mean, come on, Tech. Really. He's completely out of your league. Just think – you are a commoner. A maid in your own house. A toy for your stepmother to play with and tease and taunt however she may please. And, above all, you are a _cyborg_. And him? Well, he's just one of the wealthiest princes in the magical dimension. You might as well be in different __dimensions__ that is how spread out you two are in social hierarchy. _

_You can't seriously think he'd want to be friends with you – it's totally and utterly irrational. I mean, he just wants you to fix his android for him. Then, he'll just forget about you as if you didn't exist, and everything will go back to how it was. _

_You are __**nothing**__ compared to him, Tech – you never were and never will be. _

By this time, I had gotten into my hover and was sitting in the driver's side, looking out of the window…_alone_. I finally turned the keys, bringing the hover to life. As I drove off, these thoughts kept consuming my head – I tried listen to them, I really did. I knew they were right. I was just acting completely and utterly illogical. I was nothing to him, and never was anything to him in the first place. Prince Timmy will most likely just forget about me after Laui is fixed, then never talk to me again. And yes, believing this would be the rational thing to do.

Funny thing is, I'm starting to believe that in this situation, being _illogical_ is the only _logical_ way to be.


End file.
